


One Golden Summer

by icameheretowinry



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: F/M, edwin - Freeform, resembool trio week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-26
Updated: 2017-07-06
Packaged: 2018-11-19 06:51:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11308008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icameheretowinry/pseuds/icameheretowinry
Summary: Ed and Winry reminisce over all that's changed, from childhood to post-Promised Day, over Ed's newest round of automail repairs.





	1. Thanks to a Rusty Screw

“WINRY!”

The sandy-haired mechanic paused and glanced down at her agitated patient. 

“What is it, Edward?” she asked. 

“That HURT!! You could’ve warned me!” Ed snapped as he pushed his sweaty bangs out of his eyes, his face screwed into a grimace. 

Winry gently released the grip of her wrench on the screw she was loosening on his automail leg, and narrowed her eyes to examine it. Ed raised himself off the examination table onto his elbows, sending his loose golden hair cascading down his back. 

“Are you even listening to me?!” 

After letting his whining simmer in silence for a few moments, Winry finally met his gaze. 

“It’s rusty,” she stated evenly. 

“Whatever!” Ed griped, “You promised you’d warn me the next time you were going to loosen a sensitive screw!” 

“It’s your fault it’s rusty,” Winry explained as she turned her attention back to the stubborn screw, “It’s those awfully LONG hot showers you take and then sitting around without drying it off. I warned you, but as usual, you refuse to listen.” 

Ed scowled. 

“You should still tell me!” he insisted, and folded his arms across his chest, “It hurts…”

Winry glanced back up at her pouting patient, his arms still folded and an unabashed pout on his face. Looking at him, practically a man now and a head taller than herself (which he never hesitated to bring up), it was difficult to believe how quickly the time had gone by. All those hours spent, usually just the two of them, diligently making adjustments to a child’s grave mistake. In moments like these, they were suddenly eleven again. He never listened to her advice anyway. She often wondered why she even bothered. Yet, all that manifested upon Winry’s lips was a gentle smile. As usual, Ed was quick to notice. 

“What on earth are you smiling for?”   
“Hmm, nothing,” responded Winry as she let it curl into a smirk. 

Ed unfolded his arms and leaned forward until he and the blond mechanic were nearly eye to eye. 

“What’s the reason?” he asked. 

‘He’s such a child,’ Winry thought, and allowed herself a small giggle. 

“Come on!” whined Ed.

“Oh, I don’t know…” she replied with a smirk, “Maybe just that the so-called ‘Hero of Amestris’ who ‘punched God in the face’ and survived lord knows what other horrors you haven’t told me about, gets rendered useless by a little rusty screw.” 

“THAT’S NOT TRUE!”

“Maybe you should listen to my maintenance advice for once!” responded an exasperated Winry. 

“Fine, fine,” replied Ed as he leaned back onto the examination table, “Whatever you say.”

“One more good yank ought to do it…” mumbled Winry as she reached for her wrench. 

Ed frowned, “What did you say?”

Suddenly, an otherworldly pain exploded in his artificial leg. 

“YOW! WINRY!!!”

“I’M SORRY, OKAY!!”

“YOU DID THAT ON PURPOSE!”

“I DID NOT!” 

Ed pinched the bridge of his nose and muttered a slew of curses under his breath as the fiery sensation began to ebb away. 

“You kind of deserve it for acting like such a child,” mumbled Winry as she deposited the vilified screw into a nearby metal tray with a sharp clang. 

Ed pulled up the neckline of his black tank top to mop the beads of sweat gathered along his forehead. When Winry glanced up to reach for a screwdriver, she felt her mouth drop open and the heat creep across her cheeks. She hated when he did this to her; pulling her soul away from every anchor of reason and sending it into a dizzying spin. Suddenly, she noticed Ed’s face re-emerging from behind the curtain of black fabric. Frantically, Winry bowed her head and dove her gloved hand into the nearest tray, looking for a tool she didn’t need. The excessive noise drew Ed’s attention as he sat up to readjust his top across his abdomen. 

“Win?”

The flustered mechanic mumbled something incoherent and continued rummaging through her inventory of automail parts. 

“Are.. you… okay…”

The words fell slow and thick from his lips as he noticed the fading redness still caught on her cheeks. 

“It’s nothing!” replied Winry, her voice high and sharp, “It’s just really, REALLY hot in here…”

Ed frowned and lay back down, glancing around at the walls of the harshly sterile room. A phantom pain blossomed in his right shoulder and turned the back of his throat acidic. While Truth returned his arm, it wasn’t so quick to let him forget the price of his first mistake. Even since that terrible night, he hated this room, a festering darkness in the heart of the Rockbell house. Memories of the blood, fear, pain, and guilt clamped down without mercy on his heart. Ed closed his eyes and reached up to massage the bridge of his nose. He could almost hear Truth’s bitter laugh echoing in his head. 

Guilt for what he did to Al. Guilt for what he did… to her. 

Ed slowly opened his eyes, hoping to burn away the awful memories under that harsh light. He raised his chin to see Winry had quietly slipped back to work on his automail, humming a song he used to know under her breath. 

“What’s what from?” he asked in an attempt to distract himself. 

Winry jumped, sending the two flaxen tendrils of hair hanging out of her trademark green bandana swaying. Steadying herself, she met his curious golden gaze. 

“What’s what from?” she responded as she leaned over to search through her tool box. 

“The song,” said Ed. 

“Oh!” she replied as she pulled out a frighteningly large wrench, “I’m not entirely sure, but I remember your mom singing it to me once when I scraped my knee while we were playing. I can’t remember the words, and whenever I try to, the memory kind of sounds like she’s singing underwater. So, that’s what I call it.”

Ed noticed the tops of her ears go pink. 

‘What on earth is up with her today?’ he thought. 

“Heh… It sounds kind of stupid now that I explain it,” she admitted, growing redder by the minute.

Ed shook his head and smiled, “Not at all! I remember it too…”

“Hmm,” replied Winry softly as she bowed her head to return to work. 

“We must’ve been what… Six? Seven?” Ed continued, “It was a warm summer day, kind of like today. Al and I got it into our heads that we were going to go fishing. Mom packed us lunch, but you insisted on coming.”

Winry paused and looked up. Ed’s golden eyes stared right through her. 

“Al let you borrow his rod when we got there. I don’t even think he wanted to go…”

“Ed?” 

“I got mad about something,” he said, “Oh! You caught a bigger fish than me!”

“Ed, I have to adjust…”

“I pushed you into the creek and that was how you scraped your knee. Al ran home and got mom. That’s when she sang to you...”

“There’s another screw I have to…”

“God,” said Ed as he shook his head and leaned back, “I wish I remembered the words.” 

Ed heard Winry say something, but like her memory of his mother’s song, it sounded garbled and distant. She was clad in the same beige coveralls and green bandana, the air thick with the smell of lubricant and the bitterness of rust… 

Suddenly, that fiery pain engulfed every nerve in his body. Ed bit his lower lip and clenched sterile white sheets beneath him as he rode out the pain. 

Her indigo eyes were wide and burned into his. This… She was a view so familiar now, it was practically home.   
Suddenly, the dull and faltering scrap of Den’s claws on the wooden floor and heavy footfalls filled the Rockbell house’s hallway. 

“Hi, Den!” called Al, “Who’s a good boy?!”

Yet, the commotion did nothing to bruise the moment. 

“Thanks, you crazy gearhead,” said Ed. 

“For what?” asked Winry. 

“Everything.”

“You idiot.”


	2. The Things We Lose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just as a warning, I went full-on grief in this chapter. If reading about death makes you uncomfortable, proceed with caution. I wrote this as subtly as I could. There's no blood or gore. Based on what I have planned for chapter three and the growth of Ed's character here, please stick with me. I promise it gets MUCH happier!

"Ed? Win?"

Winry shoved the open drawers of her crimson tool box shut in a series of sharp clangs. Ed slowly sat up and stretched his newly obtained right arm across his chest. He winced as a phantom fire shot through his veins. 

“We’re in here, Al!” shouted Ed towards the hallway. 

Winry tossed a handful of rusty screws into a scrap bucket near the examination table as she watched Ed rotate his right shoulder to work out the stiffness. 

“Is the joint still bothering you?” she asked.

Ed paused and gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze. 

“Yeah,” he admitted, “Truth has a twisted sense of humor if you ask me. Giving me my arm, but letting me keep the pain of automail.”

Winry frowned. 

“Not that you didn’t do a great job installing it!” said Ed, his hands raised in defense, “It’s hard to explain how it feels, really. If only Den could talk. He’d back me up.”

“Wishing dogs could talk?” replied Winry with a laugh, “What sort of deep end have you gone off of?”

Ed paused and lowered his right arm, “Al?”

Winry turned towards the door leading to the front hallway, Al was nowhere to be seen. 

“Alphonse?” she called as she disappeared through the doorway. 

Suddenly, Ed heard a gasp and the sound of knees hitting the wooden floor. In a second, Ed was on his feet, fear crashing into his head and blurring his vision. 

Winry?” 

A strangled sob filled the air. 

“WINRY!!”

Ed rushed into the hallway, and the sight before him burned in the back of his throat. Winry held Den’s head gently in her lap, stroking his greyed muzzle with trembling fingers, Al’s arms wrapped around her, rivers streaming from her cerulean eyes. 

“Winry…”

She met his gaze and broke his heart.

“He’s gone…”

Ed couldn’t move. It felt like his limbs turned to marble, but every cell in his body told him to run as far away as he could. 

“Wha— what happened? I heard him get up when you came in, Al. He couldn’t possibly just be—”

“Not now, Ed,” warned Al without looking up. 

Ed trailed off, and when he finally regained control of his legs, he let them skirt around the scene that paralyzed him, and into the early summer evening on the other side of the door. It didn’t surprise him when he came to a rest at the ruins of his childhood home. The burnt and splintered wood was more mossy and choked with weeds than he remembered. A gentle breeze sent the skeletal-like branches of the tree above him rattling, like a jeer from the red-streaked evening sky itself. 

‘She’s right,’ Ed thought bitterly, ‘I am an idiot.’ 

After what felt like an eternity, muffled footsteps behind him brought Ed back to his senses. He quickly turned, half expecting Den to have followed him. He always did… Instead, Ed was met with a quite winded Alphonse, slightly bent over with his hands resting on his knees. 

“Al?”

His younger brother held up a hand, “I’m fine. I just need a moment to catch my breath. That hill’s steeper than I remember.” 

“Are you sure?” Ed asked, concern etched on his face.

Al straightened up, “Yeah, no worries.”

Ed sighed and turned back towards the decaying ruins in front of him. The wind had ceased, leaving him alone with his deafening thoughts. 

“What are you doing here, brother?”

Ed kicked a rock laying innocently at his feet.

“Trying to calculate just how much of a gigantic idiot I am,” he replied. 

Al’s face fell into a soft smile, “You’re not an idiot.”

“Would you wipe the dumb smile off your face?” snapped Ed without turning around, “You can’t use that expression for everything, you know.” 

Al frowned and folded him arms, “Whether I’m smiling or not, I still don’t think you’re an idiot for running. You did the same thing when we heard about Mr. Hughes. Everybody reacts to death differently, Ed, and running away is by far a better response than some others. You, of all people, should know that.” 

Ed shook his head, his eyes fixed to the ground. It was moments like these that made him forget which one of them was the younger brother.  

“Still,” he whispered bitterly, “She cried.”

“Of course, brother,” replied Al, “It’s also not your fault.”

“You don’t get it, Al!” shouted Ed as he turned to face him, “I should’ve been there! For her! Because… I…”

“She’s going to be okay,” said Al evenly, “I made her some tea before I left.” 

“That’s what you came here to tell me?” snapped Ed, “That you took care of everything after I walked out?”

“No, brother. I need your help.”

“With what?” growled Ed, “It sounds like you have the entire situation under control.”

“I… I can’t lift him,” replied Al in a small voice, “He’s too heavy.”

Ed snapped back to his senses, ‘What on earth am I saying?!’

“Right,” he said, I’ll help.”

Without a word, they slowly started back towards the Rockbell house. 

“I really should say something to her,” said Ed as they neared the front door.

“I agree,” replied Al, “I’ll wait here.”

Ed found Winry sitting alone at the kitchen table in front of a cup of tea long since gone cold, and a picture of her and Den as a puppy clutched in her hands. 

“Winry?”

She slowly turned her head to meet his gaze. Her were eyes red from crying, and Ed regarded her with blank horror as all things he wanted to say got caught in the back of his throat. 

“I— I’m sorry…” 

Winry said nothing as Ed gestured vaguely towards the front door. 

“I have to go.”

She shifted her gaze back towards the photo. 

“But I’ll be right back!” 

Ed lingered in silence for a few seconds before finally willing himself to leave. 

“How is she?” asked Al who was waiting at the front door.

“Not much for talking,” replied Ed. 

“That doesn’t surprise me. Are you ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” said Ed, “Let’s go.”   
The darkness was nearly complete when they returned, Al occasionally bracing himself on the shovel as he went. While Ed did a majority of the work, Al insisted on contributing, crafting a small headstone to mark the grave. It was the first alchemy he used since the Promise Day, and it took more out of him than he expected. As usual, neither one let themselves cry…

“Are you sure you’re alright?” asked Ed as they neared the front door of the Rockbell house. 

“For the millionth time, don’t worry,” said Al, trying to hide the weariness in his voice, “I have an appointment in Central to monitor my progress tomorrow. If I need to be doing anything differently, that’s when I’ll know. For now, I’m trying to do as much as I can on my own.” 

Ed didn’t reply as he flipped a switch and flooded the front hallway with light. 

“You completely forgot I had to leave tomorrow, didn’t you?”

“Maybe…” replied Ed. 

Al shook his head, “Typical.” 

“In my defense,” said Ed, “A lot has happened today. It was an easy thing to forget.” 

“Can I at least trust you to be able to make Win a cup of tea without burning the house to the ground while I’m gone?” 

Ed rolled his eyes, “Of course, Al.”

Their conversation hushed as they came upon Winry asleep at the kitchen table. 

“I got this,” whispered Ed, and he gently helped a groggy Winry to her feet to lead her to her bedroom. 

“Goodnight, brother,” whispered Al down the hallway. 

“Safe travels,” came the distant reply. 

Al yawned as he disposed of Winry’s cold tea, pinned the slightly wet, wrinkled photograph back to the board in the hallway, and flicked off the light.


	3. A Day in Central

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Al travels to Central for a doctor's appointment, and nothing quite goes to plan.

The early morning silence was nearly sinister when Al let the front door of the Rockbell house close softly behind him. The virgin sky was streaked with fuchsia, while the far-off horizon had yet to be reached by the rising sun. Resembool sunrises were one of the few pleasures awaiting him after a long night alone when he was nothing but a soul clinging to an artificial body. Al smiled to himself and began the long, slow trek to the town train station. 

The emptiness of the platform didn’t surprise him, even after arriving well into normal waking hours. Had there been someone there, he would’ve struck up a conversation, but being alone was something he was used to by now. After Al boarded the train and settled into a vacant seat for what would prove to be a painfully uneventful journey into Central. The highlight was a breakfast of hearty wheat bread slathered in jam and salted butter. It was a much lighter meal than the doctors in the city recommended for his recovery, but since Winry promised him an apple pie upon his return, he decided to save his appetite for later. 

‘After what happened yesterday,’ he thought to himself as he polished off the last bite of his breakfast, ‘I probably shouldn’t get my hopes up.’

While they were only required weekly, rehabilitation appointments weren’t an obligation Al particularly enjoyed. Each was filled with every manner of poking, prodding, measuring, weighing, and blood tests to assess his strength and progress, not to mention being battered with questions by researchers of how his body managed to survive for so long beyond the gate. While he appreciated and encouraged their research, his account of the experience was painfully inconsistent. For every block of missing time, there was another so crammed with detail he couldn’t possibly begin to explain himself. 

Al readied himself for the onslaught as he excited the train, and followed the strangely ghostly streets of Central until the stark gray walls of the military hospital loomed, almost prison-like, into sight. Lost in thought, his journey down the main corridor was abruptly halted as he nearly knocked down a very flustered Sheska. 

“Oh! Hello, Alphonse! How are you?” she asked brightly. 

“I’m alright,” he replied as he steadied himself against the nearest wall, “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

“Not all all!” she said while adjusting the glasses that had gone askew on her face, “I’m just coming from the library…”

‘Big surprise there,’ thought Alphonse.

“… and I was informed that Doctor Marcoh is off in East City treating a rather nasty outbreak of the summer flu, and –“

“Wait, he’s not here?”

When Sheska finally stopped to take a breath, she nodded briskly, almost sending her glasses flying off the end of her nose.   
“The head nurse told me to tell you to come back next week,” she explained, “Just keep doing what you’re doing. You’re far enough along in your recovery that one missed appointment isn’t the end of the world.”

Al nodded and breathed an internal sigh of relief. 

“I guess I’ll be going then,” he said, and turned on his heel to go. 

Suddenly, Sheska clamped down on his arm with such intensity, he could practically feel the curiosity radiating out of her. 

“Do you have a question, Sheska?” he asked, and turned to face her again.

“Yes!” the bespectacled young woman nearly squealed, and finally released her iron grasp on his arm.

“Ask away.”

“So, I was reading through…”

‘Another big surprise,’ thought Al. 

“… the research that’s recently been compiled on your recovery, and I noticed a gaping hole in the questioning. Everyone’s all caught up on how your body felt and functioned on the other side of the gate, but I honestly couldn’t believe no one asked you what it felt like to exist on this side! What was it like?!”

Al stopped short. It was true. No one had asked him. He even felt a tiny spark of bitterness flare up inside him. No one really seemed to care. As the silence between them grew stale, Al watched the excited smile slowly whither from Sheska’s face. 

“Alphonse?”

“It’s like being in a dream,” he began. 

“How so?” 

“You’re never hungry. Never thirsty. Never tired,” he explained, “All basic human necessities disappear. One time, I even let myself believe that my own brother created me artificially just to have a weapon in his control.”

“Wait, really?” asked Sheska, her eyes wide with curiosity. 

“Yeah,” replied Al with a halfhearted laugh, “It was really silly of me to ever think something like that was possible, looking back on it. Being alone with your thoughts too long can cause anyone to overthink.”

Sheska didn’t reply as she furiously scribbled down notes on the palm of her hand. For someone who read so many books, she never seemed to have any blank paper on hand when she needed it. When she finally raised her head, she reached out, clamped down on Al’s hand, and shook it vigorously. 

“Thanks, Alphonse!” she said brightly, “We’ll see you next week! Keep up the great work!” 

Al nodded and turned on his heel to begin the long trek back to Central’s train station, trying to silence the phrase that screamed inside him since that fateful night so many years ago. He paused, and without turning, finally released the truth. 

“Sheska?” he asked. 

“Yes, Alphonse?” 

“It was hell.” 

The breath he took outside the heavy hospital doors felt like first one he’d taken in a long time. The summer sun was radiating mercilessly off Central’s cobblestone streets by the time Al neared the train station. 

“Hello, Alphonse,”

Al turned at the sound of this name, and suddenly, the space below his knees was surrounded in a black and white blur of fur, teeth, and tails. It took him a moment to recognize the woman in the yellow sundress before him without her trademark blue uniform. 

“Lieutenant!”

Riza Hawkeye smiled as she fought for control of the excited dog entwining himself around Al’s legs. 

“Hayate! Down!”

Suddenly, as quickly as the canine frenzy started, it was over as Hayate calmly seated himself near her left foot with military-like precision. He smiled and shook his head, only The Hawk’s Eye would train a dog like that. 

“How are you, Lieutenant?” he asked as he reached down to give Hayate a scratch on the ear. 

“Very well,” she replied, “And actually, it’s ‘Captain’ now, but no matter. Please, call me Riza.”

“Congratulations on your promotion!” said Al as he straightened up and stuck out his hand. 

Quickly, he realized Riza’s hands were full between Hayate’s leash and a small, white puppy cradled in the crook of her left arm. 

“Oh! Who’s this?” asked Al as he gave the small dog its own scratch between the ears. 

“I didn’t tell you?” replied Riza, “As of a few months ago, Hayate became the proud father to a litter of four.” 

“That’s wonderful!” said Al, still scratching the white puppy between the ears. It’s eyes drooped lazily at the sensation. 

“I’ve managed to get three of them adopted but this little one,” she explained, “Her brothers and sister all had some black markings like Hayate. I guess that’s what people prefer.” 

Suddenly, the image of Winry sitting at the kitchen table clutching a photo of her and Den flashed before his eyes. 

“I can take her!” said Al a little louder than he meant to. 

‘What are you doing?!’ he thought to himself. 

Riza raised an eyebrow, “Are you sure?”

“Of course!” he replied, “Ed and I grew up with dogs, it will be no problem at all! She’ll love it out in the countryside!”

“If you’re sure,” said Riza, “then she’s all yours.”

The blond soldier leaned forward and gently deposited the white puppy into Al’s arms. She yipped softly and looked up at him with a rather lopsided canine grin. Al felt a small tug at his heart as he instantly fell head over heels. 

Riza smiled and brushed some stray fur from her dress, “There is no doubt in my mind she’s going to a good home. Thank you.” 

Hayate whined as he noticed the absence of the puppy in Riza’s arms. 

“Don’t worry,” said Riza in a soothing voice as she leaned over to give him a pet, “She’ll be just fine.”

“Listen… um… Riza,” mumbled Al, “I hate to leave so quickly, but my train from Resembool departs pretty soon.”

Riza straightened up, “No problem at all! Say hello to Edward and your friend Winry for me.”

‘Oh, that’s right… my friend…Winry…’ Al thought as the puppy squirmed in his arms. 

Will do!” he replied, “And from us to the Colonel.” 

Riza nodded and quickly disappeared into the growing crowd of travelers swarming in and out of the station entrance. Al pushed his way through the chaos towards his train, twisting his way between jutting elbows and swinging luggage to protect his precious cargo. As he boarded the train, he suddenly felt a heavy hand on his shoulder. 

“Excuse me, sir, but animals are not permitted in the passenger carriages,” said a gruff voice. 

Al spun around to find the source of the voice to be an impossibly tall rail worker. The sunlight shining in through the train station windows glinted menacingly off the brass buttons of his uniform. 

“I—I have to make this train,” Al explained, “Could I ride with her in the luggage carriage?” 

The man’s expression slowly softened as he regarded the snowy puppy growing sleepy in Al’s arms. 

“Normally, we don’t allow it,” he said, “But I’ll make an exception.” 

“Thanks!” said Al with a smile, and slipped through the sliding door into the adjacent car. 

He felt the puppy’s soft belly expand against his arm as a yawn engulfed her tiny body. He quickly settled onto a large traveling as the train lurched out of the station. It wasn’t long before sleep claimed the small dog. 

Al smiled as he ran a finger gently through the velvety fur on the puppy’s back, “I can already tell you’re going to be a wonderful handful.”


	4. Change of Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Golden Trio sit down to enjoy some of Winry's famous apple pie, but in the moment, Al makes a couple of decisions that will shake the gang to its core.

Al winced as he shifted his weight against the hard cover of the traveling trunk. The padded benches in the passenger car were hardly thick enough to keep the pain from slowly radiating through every joint of his thin frame. He no longer slept for days at a time or used a cane, but a persistent fatigue still plagued him, even nearly a year into his recovery. In addition, his light breakfast did little in the fight against the hunger that clamped down on his stomach. The snowy puppy asleep in his lap whined and stretched in her sleep, reminding him why he allowed himself such discomfort. 

'This is for Winry,' he repeated like a promise in his head. 

In truth, Al hadn't thought much of the blond mechanic until a few months before the Promise Day. She was always a part of his and Ed's existence, an irreplaceable ally with a penchant for impassioned bouts for love and anger. Then, one day, Ed mentioned his passing fancy for a raven-haired cadet he'd seen in the military library, and Al's first thought was how she wasn't nearly as pretty as Winry. It shocked him, and being Alphonse Elric trapped in a suit of armor, spent three consecutive nights overthinking it. He knew Ed had some feelings for her. He remembered how quickly his brother stiffened and diverted the question, but Winry never mentioned a thing. 

Al couldn't help but laugh as the snowy puppy woke herself with a sneeze and stared up at him with bewildered brown eyes. 

"Silly girl!"

'She's going to love you!' Al thought, and for a rare moment, allowed himself to puff up with pride. 

As soon as the train rolled into the Resembool station, Al was on the platform before a single passenger was able to receive their luggage. As he rushed towards the station entrance, the atmosphere around him seemed to grow thick, as if he were drawing water into his lungs. As he braced himself against one of the station’s walls, Winry’s new puppy whined. 

Al smiled as he slowly straightened himself up again, “Don’t worry! I just need a minute to catch my breath.”

After his episode in the train station, Al kept his pace more than reasonable on his long trek to the Rockbell house. He felt a wash of relief when the only distance that separated him from the cheerful yellow and green facade was the notoriously rutted dirt road Pinako simply refused to pave. As he neared the house, Al picked up the familiar tangle of Winry and Ed’s voices leaking faintly from underneath the front door. 

‘They’re arguing again,’ he thought as he rolled him eyes, ‘Typical.’ 

Judging from the distance of their voices, Al rounded the side of the house and discretely peeked through the kitchen window to check out the situation. Through the slightly dirty glass, Al watched as Winry, clad a baby blue apron, raise a rolling pin menacingly above her head. 

‘She kept her promise to make me apple pie!’ he thought excitedly. 

Suddenly, a cloud of white filled the kitchen, and Al tried his best to stifle a laugh as Ed staggered to his feet, covered head to toe in flour. Winry’s grimace suddenly melted into a fit of laughter. When she finally managed to straighten up and brush a stray tear away with the palm of her hand, she gave Ed the smile that always made Al’s heart stop. He glanced down to the snowy puppy cradled in his arms and gave her a weary smile. 

“I should’ve known better,” he said softly. 

Then, he walked to a storage shed nearby and set the tiny dog on the ground. 

“Wait here, quietly, ok?” he said, and shut the door. 

Ed and Winry barely noticed Al enter the kitchen. 

“Brother, I need you to come with me.”

Ed paused in the process of ridding himself of the thin layer of flour that coated every inch of him. 

“Al? What is it?” 

“Please, brother,” said Al, “Come outside.” 

Without another word, he turned on his heel and exited.

“Al?”

Ed followed, leaving a trail of faint white footprints in his path. Thanks to Al’s slow pace, Ed quickly caught up with him outside. 

“Al?” asked Ed, “What’s going on? Why are you home so soon? Did the doctor say something?”

Al said nothing as he neared the storage shed. 

“Al! Talk to me!” 

He wretched the door open, and the snowy puppy sprang to life in a fit of fur and teeth. 

“Where did you get that?!” gasped Ed. 

“It’s a girl,” replied Al curtly, “She was given to me by Captain Hawkeye in Central this afternoon. Doctor Marcoh was out in East City treating an outbreak of the summer flu, so I didn’t have an appointment. I’m going back next week. I was going to surprise Winry with her when I got back, but I think it’s a better idea if you do it.” 

Ed’s gaze shifted quickly between the puppy and Al as he tried to process the slew of information his brother had thrown at him. 

“But… it was your idea, Al,” he said, “You should give her the puppy.”

Al gave Ed a weary smile and shook his head. 

“I saw the way she looked at you in the kitchen,” he replied. 

Ed suddenly felt a strange heat crept across his cheeks. 

“It would mean a lot more to her coming from you.”

“But—“

“I insist!” said Al, as he reached down to pick up the small dog. 

He gently set her into Ed’s arms. As if on cue, she gave him the same lopsided grin that won over Al. 

“Woah,” said Ed, “She certainly not subtle!”

“Well, have you ever known Winry to be?” asked Al.

“Never!” confessed Ed, “They’re perfect for each other!”

As fast as Ed allowed, the brothers scurried back towards the house. Winry’s back was to the boys they silently entered the kitchen. 

“Where on earth did you two run off to? The pie’s almost cool!” she chided as she turned towards them, “Why can’t you just—“ 

The dull thud of the wooden rolling pin hitting the tile floor filled the kitchen. 

“She’s for you!” said Ed with one of his gigantic goofy smiles. 

Winry raced across the kitchen and, surprisingly gently, lifted the snowy puppy from Ed’s arms, her fierce blue eyes gone starry with tears. 

“I—I –“

“You don’t have to say anything, Win,” said Al. 

Winry hugged the tiny dog to her chest, “I'll call her Emi!” 

The puppy yipped and gave Winry that devilish grin that sent her into another round of tears. When she finally set Emi down next to a bowl of water and some of Den’s food, she turned to the Elric brothers, her eyes unabashedly red and puffy. 

“Thank you, Ed!” she said, her voice barely a whisper, “A blessing was just what I needed.”

Al glanced at his brother and nodded, quickly erasing the uncertainty etched on his face. 

“Sh—shall we have some pie?” Winry asked. 

“Yes!” replied Al, a little louder than he meant to. 

Without hesitation, Winry quickly served up three slices of the apple pie sitting near the kitchen window sill. The boys quickly gathered around her to grab their plates and hoisted heaping mouthfuls onto their forks. 

Al always loved the flavor Winry’s apple pie; a little sweet, a little tart, and laced with the cinnamonic melancholy of the one who never got to taste it. Gracia’s recipe was noble. Winry’s rendition was spectacular. 

“Listen…” he said suddenly. 

Ed and Winry raised their heads, their cheeks bulging with the homemade indulgence. 

“I’m going to go study in Xing.”


	5. What Blazes in Summer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Al's decision to suddenly leave Resembool to study in Xing doesn't sit well with Ed.

Ed and Winry nearly choked. 

“You’re doing what?” asked Ed in disbelief, his cheeks tinged pink from the effort of forcing the large mouthful of pie down his throat. 

Al raised his last forkful of pie to his lips. 

“I’ve decided that I’m going to Xing,” he repeated evenly, “Mei offered to help me continue my studies in alkahestry, and quite frankly, I miss all the traveling around like we used to. It’ll be nice to see something new, and catch up with the gang!”

“Are you serious?” responded an exasperated Ed, seemingly forgetting the fork still clutched in his left hand. 

“Well, the weekly train rides to Central aren’t exactly what I would call thrilling,” Al explained as he polished off his piece of pie and reached towards the middle of the table to serve himself a second, “I’ve also been in recovery for over a year now, and—“

“Exactly!” said Ed, “Only a year.” 

A deep crease formed between Al’s brows as he focused his attention on the uneaten slice of pie in front of him. 

“A year is a long time, brother,” he whispered sharply. 

Ed shook his head as he rose to bring his and Winry’s plate over the kitchen sink, she tried her best to suppress any commentary about him cleaning up after himself for once. 

“No, it’s not,” he replied firmly, “As your older brother, I insist that you at least stay in Resembool until the end of summer.” 

Al finally met his brother’s gaze. 

“You’re being ridiculous! It’s already the beginning of June. What’s a few more months here going to change about anything? I was allowed to skip an appointment this week! Didn’t you hear me? Sheska explicitly stated how ‘far along’ I was in my recovery!”

Like a taunted beast, Ed’s notorious temper suddenly flared up inside him, ready for a fight. 

“Me?! Ridiculous?!” he sputtered, “I’m not the one proposing to travel to the edge of this country, and across a goddam death desert, just to study alchemy when I get winded from walking up a little hill!”

Winry gasped as she noticed the tips of Al’s ears redden. Al never got angry, especially at Ed. Emi whined and dove under the protection of Winry’s chair. The blond mechanic leaned over and coaxed the frightened puppy into her arms. 

“Ed? Al?” she whispered uncharacteristically timidly as she sat back up, “Maybe we should take this down a notch—“

Winry’s feeble intervention did little to halt the eruption brewing between the brothers. Al was suddenly on his feet, his grip on the back of his chair turning his knuckles as white as snow. 

“Are you serious, Ed?!” Al asked sharply, “You know how far I’ve come!”

“Things were different a few years ago!” retorted Ed as he gruffly began to wash the dishes. 

‘Huh… Apparently getting him irritated is the best way to get him to help around the house?’ thought Winry as she gave a very frightened Emi a reassuring scratch between the ears. 

“You think?!” shouted Al, “Don’t you remember everything we went through? Or are you just going to run away from all that like you always do?!”

The words burned in Al’s throat, and he knew they stuck like poisoned arrows in Ed’s skin. Unsurprisingly, Ed said nothing, too busy trying to rub the enamel coating off the plate clenched in his hand. Winry’s fierce blue eyes burned into his own, silently screaming at him to stop. 

Al ignored her. 

“This is something you wouldn’t of batted an eye at a few years ago!” he said through clenched teeth. 

Ed finally broke his stale silence when he and Winry’s plates were scrubbed within an inch of their life. 

“Let me rephrase myself,” his voice low and sharp, “You were different a few years ago.”

“I was a hulking suit of armor!” said an exasperated Al, “What does that have to do with anything?”

Ed said nothing. Slowly, Al’s eyes widened in disbelief as his brother’s scorching counterattack sunk in. 

“You… You don’t think I’ll ever be as strong as I was then?” he asked, his voice quickly growing smaller with each word. 

Ed remained frozen in silence. He could feel Winry’s scorching glare drilling into him. 

Al slowly released his iron grip on his chair. 

“Whatever,” Al whispered bitterly, “So I can’t charge up a hill. At least I’ve decided to start moving forward.”

Al slowly disappeared down the hallway towards his bedroom. The click of his closing door echoed in the acrid silence. 

“What are you going to do?”

Ed sighed and shook his head after Al was gone. 

“You idiot.”

Ed glanced over to Winry who was clutching a trembling Emi in her arms. 

“Me?”

“Yes you!” she scolded, “Not only did you terrify my new dog, but you also really hurt your brother’s feelings!”

“He was acting childish!” retorted Ed. 

“I believe that award, once again, goes to you,” replied Winry. 

“Thinking in his state he can scamper off halfway around the world?” he continued, “I’m actually more surprised that you didn’t agree with me! This is just the sort of thing you always scolded us about.”

Winry shook her head, “I don’t agree with you! Like you said, things are different now! Don’t you have any faith in him at all?”

“Of course I do! It’s just—“ Ed felt the words quickly die on his tongue.

As he searched for a response, Winry slowly sat up and set a much calmer Emi on the floor. The snowy puppy quickly scampered back towards her abandoned meal, sending half of it flying out of oversized bowl as she attacked it ravenously. Winry quietly washed the dirty forks that lay forgotten at the bottom of the kitchen sink. The blond alchemist could only pace around the large wooden table. 

“Just because he isn’t invincible,” said Winry suddenly, “doesn’t mean he isn’t strong.” 

Ed hung his head and sunk back into his chair. Winry couldn’t help but feel her expression soften. She dried her hands and slid into the chair across from him. 

“Would you, for once, tell me what’s going on?”


	6. Stick or Move

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Over a Resembool sunset out the kitchen window, Winry finally convinces Ed to tell her how he feels about the year since the Promised Day, and where they go from here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit filler-y, but I really wanted to show some more of Ed's character development, and throw in some of the fluffy teasing that works so well between them. I hope you enjoy!

For eyes so blue, Winry's gaze could burn straight into Ed. As the years passed, much to his chagrin, it could more easily draw the words out of him.  

"What's bothering you?" she asked gently, a ghost of a smile upon her lips. 

Ed steered his eyes to the lazy summer afternoon lurking just outside the kitchen window. Soon, that azure sky would slowly catch fire as the day drew to a close. 

"Ed? It's alright--" 

"I like it here," he said suddenly. 

Winry furrowed her brow, "What do you mean?"

Ed slowly rose from his seat and let his body follow his gaze to the kitchen window. Every fiber of his being wanted to do what it always did, what Al accused him of-- run away...

"This isn't easy," he said evenly, trying to control the multitude of words bubbling up inside him.

Winry hung her head as she rose from the table to retrieve the rolling pin long since forgotten on the kitchen floor, "It doesn't matter, really." 

The silence in the kitchen threatened to go stale.

"I... I don't want anyone to go..." said Ed, his voice barely above a whisper. 

Winry paused mid-crouch, her trembling hand hovering above the flour-dusted rolling pin. 

“Huh?”

“I don’t want anyone to go,” Ed repeated slowly, “I— I like how things are… right now.” 

The rolling pin was once again quickly forgotten as Winry rose and joined Ed near the kitchen window. The worn wooden border framed the such a familiar view; rolling hills of mossy green briefly marred by multihued houses and groves of trees that shifted from emerald to silver in the lazy summer breeze, the sky above punctuated by fat, white clouds, and rutted dirt road slinking away from the front of the house far to her left. 

Winry always thought Resembool was trapped within some sort of bubble, and jumped at any chance to leave the little world where the years so easily melted together. It was… predictable. As she drew her eyes away from the all too familiar view, she noticed the alchemist’s white-knuckled grip on the counter and the deep crease between his brows. 

‘He’s doing it again,’ she thought, ‘He’s running away.’

Winry gently placed her left hand on the back of Ed’s right. He twitched as their skin made contact, still not quite used to the once absent sensation. The clenched muscles slowly relaxed under the blond mechanic’s feathery touch. 

“I like how things are right now, too, Ed,” she said softly. 

Ed shifted slightly to meet her cerulean gaze. This was not a shade of Winry he often saw. 

“It’s something I’ve wanted for so long,” she continued, “I truly can’t count how many times I watched the two of you walk away, and how hard I wanted to beg you to come back.”

“Winry…”

She let her eyes once again settle on the waning summer day outside the kitchen window. Now, little streaks of pink and orange encroached on the day, and turned the edges of the clouds lavender. 

“Really, your answer doesn’t surprise me in the least,” she admitted, punctuating the end of the sentence with a riff of her musical laugh. 

Ed’s eyes widened, “Wha—?”

“Now that you and Al got your bodies back,” Winry explained, “it’s makes sense that a small part of you wants everything to go back to the way things were. When things were perfect.”

Ed frowned.

“Things were never perfect,” he said bitterly. 

“Well, certainly a hell of a lot less complicated,” remarked Winry. 

Ed said nothing. 

“There’s nothing wrong with wanting that,” she said as she gave his hand a gentle sneeze, “But, come on, it’s unrealistic.”

Ed was certain the tips of his ears were starting to redden as he truly became aware of her hand on his own, and quickly focused all his attention on trying to surpress it. That is, until the next sentence out of Winry’s mouth shook up his world again for the second that day. 

“For instance, I got a call today from Paninya asking me to come back to Rush Valley. Granny’s a bit overwhelmed, and wants to come back here to take some time off,” she began.

“Mmhmm,” mumbled Ed.

“I’ve decided to go.”

The declaration hit Ed like a freight train.

“YOU’RE GOING TOO?!”

Winry folded her arms, her expression hardening.

“Yes,” she replied firmly. 

“After what I just told you?!” demanded an exasperated Ed. 

“Oh, come on, Ed!” chided Winry, “Don’t act like such a child!”

“I am not…” he pouted. 

Winry couldn’t help but laugh. 

“What’s wrong you?” she asked, “We’re young. Our world is finally at peace. If there’s a time to travel, it’s now!” 

Ed’s childish retort lodged in his throat. As usual, the automail mechanic was right. 

“You’re.. you’re right,” he mumbled. 

“What was that?” asked Winry, making no attempt to hide her smirk. 

“You’re right, dammit!” admitted Ed. 

Satisfied, Winry nodded and bent down to pick of the long forgotten rolling pin off the kitchen floor, and placed it in the sink. 

“Now,” she said, hands on her hips, “You should probably go talk to your brother. Patch things up.”

Ed smiled as he turned to leave, “Yeah, yeah.”

“I want him to be in a good mood when I help him pick out a bracelet for that little princess that fancies him so much,” added Winry with a knowing smile. 

“He’ll never agree to that,” replied Ed with laugh. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll convince him,” she assured him. 

Ed suddenly stared down the hallway to the bedrooms with an unabashedly devilish grin. 

“Don’t tease him!” 

Ed said nothing and disappeared around the corner. 

“Edward Elric, you better listen!” called Winry. 

A faint “yeah, yeah” drifted into the kitchen as the door to Al’s bedroom creaked open. Winry smiled and shook her head as she removed her dusty blue apron. 

‘Knowing the Fullmetal Alchemist,’ she thought, ‘He’ll be at the train station gallivanting off to Drachma before either of us pack a thing!’ 


	7. New Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed, Winry, and Al get ready for Al's trip to Xing.

Much to Ed’s relief, patching things up with Al was hardly a painful process. After years of running to every corner of Amestris, a year back in Resembool truly felt like an eternity, despite Al’s time now being punctuated by irregular bouts of fitful sleep. The flaxen light of dawn barely kissed the roof of Resembool courier office before Al was waiting at its glass-fronted doors with a telegram to dictate to Mei. 

“This is to who, now?” mumbled the groggy office attendant. 

“To Princess Mei Chang, of Xing,” Al repeated. 

“A princess, eh?” he asked with a grin, “Is she a real one, or is that just what you call her?”

Al’s breath caught in his throat as he felt his cheeks go crimson. 

‘For her?’

His thoughts felt oddly wobbly as they unfolded in his mind. 

“Yes,” he replied firmly after he gathered himself, “She is a real princess, and I’d really like to get this message to her as soon as possible.”

Recognizing his intentions, the attendant straighten up and nodded to Al to begin his dictation. 

“Dear Princess Mei, stop,” he began. 

A steady tapping filled in the tiny office. 

“I accept your offer to study in Xing, stop,” he continued, “Please confirm passage across the desert, stop.”

The tapping paused as Al sorted through the odd tangle of conclusions in his head.

“All my best, stop. Alphonse Elric, stop.” 

“Is that all?” the attendant asked.

“Yes, thank you,” he replied, and slipped out the door into already sweltering summer morning. 

In the following weeks, a visit to the courier’s office neatly wove itself into Al’s morning routine. Wake up, take Emi outside, have a coffee, and head into town to reply to Mei’s latest message. It never failed to make Al smile as he read her clipped statements practically bubbling over with excitement. It surprised him how quickly it became his favorite part of the entire day. 

Winry, with her knowing azure gaze, would jab Ed in the ribs as they watched him practically skip out the door at precisely 8 o’clock every morning. 

“Mei must certainly have a way with words,” she’d say with a smirk. 

Ed would roll his eyes, down the last of his coffee, and scour the house for Emi. Despite being Winry’s dog, the Elric brothers fought over her like children and doted on her like a couple of grandmothers. 

Despite the complicated web of details involved, the reality of Al’s voyage manifested as quickly as Ed feared. The morning of his train ride to the border, Ed leaned lazily against the door frame of Al’s room as his younger brother chased a few last-minute belongings into the beaten traveling truck thrown open at the foot of his bed. 

“Are you almost ready?” 

“Nearly,” replied Al as he wrestled a blue sweater into the trunk. 

“A sweater?” asked Ed with a smirk, “It’s the middle of summer, Al!”

“One can never be too prepared,” he responded as he gripped the bed frame to help himself to his feet, “And besides, I don’t know how long I’m going to stay.” 

The smirk quickly withered from Ed’s face. Al sighed as he closed the trunk’s lid with a heavy thump. 

“Winry told me about your conversation in the kitchen,” he admitted. 

A crease quickly formed between Ed’s brows. 

“Can’t she keep anything to herself?” 

“She means well.”

“I know…” 

“Listen,” said Al, “I think she’s right. I’m surprised you haven’t run off somewhere myself.” 

Ed nodded, but said nothing.  
“We’ve dedicated ourselves to alchemy, haven’t we?”

Ed frowned.

“What’s the use of continuing my studies if I can’t even perform it anymore?” he asked more bitterly that he intended, “At least you still can.”

“Did I ever tell you I heard what you said to Truth?” Al asked suddenly. 

Ed’s head shot up to meet his younger brother’s gaze. 

“Tell me what?!”

“That I heard you say you didn’t need alchemy, if you had us,” he explained. 

Ed said nothing, his frown growing deeper. 

“Well, you do have us,” he said, “And I know none of our friends and I would ever want you to give up something you’re passionate about. You know how many different forms of alchemy there are! Maybe there’s still a way!”

Ed shook his head, “My gate was destroyed, Al. You know that.”

“Last time I checked, when it comes to alchemy, no one has all the answers,” Al said. 

“Of course not!” Ed retorted. 

“That’s our job, brother!” he replied with a grin. 

Ed let a smile curl across his lips. 

“You’re right!”

“Off to the station then!” cheered Al. 

The notoriously long trek to the station was drastically cut short due to a hired car. While Al protested with every fiber of his being that he was fit enough to walk, he didn’t shut down Winry’s decision. It was usually best not to. 

“Well,” Al began, as he stuck his head out the window of the train car, “I guess this is goodbye, for now.”

“Oh, don’t be silly!” Winry replied cheerily, “We’ll come and visit!”

Ed smiled and shook his head. 

“I don’t know about that—“

“Of course we will!” she insisted. 

Al laughed.

“Whatever works for the two of you!”

“The two of us?” Ed asked, his cheeks growing pink. 

“Of course!” replied Winry, “I’ll miss you! Say hi to everyone for me!”

Suddenly, Winry leapt onto the running board and pressed her lips against Al’s cheek. The fluttering in his stomach nearly made him topple over, while Ed’s cheeks transitioned from pink to crimson. 

“What was that?!” he demanded. 

Winry turned to him and smiled. 

“Just a little goodbye kiss on the cheek, Edward. What’s the matter?”

“Well… I...”

“Way to be subtle, Ed!” chimed Al with a smirk. 

“Shut up!”

The crimson stain on Ed’s cheeks deepened as he noticed it infect Winry’s as well. 

“Ed?” 

“It’s… It’s nothing, Win! I swear!” mumbled Ed. 

Winry blushed harder and said nothing. 

The sudden blast of the train’s horn brought them all to attention. 

“Well, here’s to the next adventure!” said Al as the train lurched forward. 

Winry’s right hand waved lazily through the hot summer morning as she threaded her left around Ed’s. He gave Al a thumbs up. 

“Ready! Steady! Go!”


End file.
